


All shall fade

by Cirilla9



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Corruption, Day 1: all shall fade, Horror, Nazgûl | Ringwraiths, Period Typical Attitudes, Poor Life Choices, Power Play, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Rings of Power, Terrifying Tolkien Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12492804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: A story of one of the Nine becoming a wraith.





	All shall fade

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first humble commission for Terrifying Tolkien Week 2017. Written for the prompt for Day 1: all shall fade.
> 
> Inspired additionally by what Aragorn said about them at Prancing Pony in "The Fellowship of the Ring".

The first sign something was wrong was when he went to the pleasure house and the company there did not give him the usual satisfaction. Then he had ignored it, put it down to the temporary weakness of his vigor or blamed it on the unprofessional care from brothel’s personnel. He had made them a scene of course, arguing loudly, refusing to pay the bill and threatening to shut down their whole business. That made him feel better but the unconscious worry remained deep inside.

Then slowly he realized he didn’t feel hunger and thirst as much as he once did. He could live for days without having a meal and not once notice he lacks something; only to be reminded of it as he went down from his chambers at the hour when his men dined. The scent of dishes was dimmed too, not even his favorites, which once make his mouth water, smelled as good anymore. He had taken remedies to that too. He replaced all the servants in the castle, exchanging the old stuff into new in one day, hiring the most recommendable cooks. It didn’t help. Not even as he sentenced one of the kitchen chefs to beheading in order to scare the rest of the sluggards to a harder work. The food still didn’t gain any flavor. It felt like everything he put into his mouth turned into ashes. It disturbed him.

What terrified him, however, came during one sunny day. When he took a break during a hunt, as he sat upon his kingly stallion and admired his precious ring as he’d done so often lately. The most valuable thing among his riches, the little trinket that, as promised by the Lord of Gifts, gave him success in every aspect of his life; which brought him power and fortune. The luck never once left him since he wore his kingly gift from the mysterious powerful being. But now, looking at it, behind its precision, behind its masterful craft he saw his own skin which was much paler than should have been. Staring at his own palm wide-eyed, frightened and struck by wicked awe at the same time, he raised his hand and saw that the sun rays fell upon it but did not stop at his skin as they shall. The light lit _through_ it. Brightness passed his hand as if it wasn’t there at all, as if his flesh had disappeared. Panicked, he retrieved his hand into the shadow and glanced quickly around to check if someone had noticed it. There was no one in a close range luckily yet from this day he begun to wear leather gloves wherever he went.

It happened to the other parts of his body too. He witnessed the slow weird transformation helpless to break it. He hated observing the process and yet it sickly fascinated him. He resorted to wearing long dark gowns whenever he showed himself in public, complete with the deep black hood that could hid his face from people’s prying eyes if necessary. He started to prefer night to day as the treacherous sun wasn’t revealing his changed appearance then.

After that came nightmares and thoughts so dark and foreign he wasn’t sure if they belonged to him. He dreamed of tortures and ruled land behind the sea and temple stairs covered in blood. Alone in the dark he saw crowds scanning an unknown name and glimpsed strands of malicious thoughts. _Rule them all… bind them, in the darkness… enslave them._

He became conscious of someone else’s presence following his every step. No matter what he did, no matter where he was, someone kept watching him. Someone was with him all the time but it wasn’t a comfortable presence; the shadowy force was trying to control him, to take over the rule over his free will completely. And the denying of its requests came harder and harder to him.

When he realized who it was, it was too late.

_No. This is not what I wanted._ He despaired as he was yet able to think by himself.

Lord of Gifts was amused. _Have I not given you what you lusted for?_ He would ask wickedly in his thoughts, his words scalding like burning fire. _Have you not been a strong leader, a rich lord? Now comes the time to pay the price._

_I don’t want to._

There was pain, like always after another refusal. He grabbed his head and fell to his knees and screamed. His lord was growing impatient. He was growing weak. He knew one day it will overcome him. His struggle was futile. One day he will listen to the repeated order and fell under Sauron’s command completely.

_Come to Mordor_. _You will serve me from here._

**Author's Note:**

> Do not try this at home.  
> Do not trust the Lord of Gifts.


End file.
